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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268352">Zoyalai Drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsaritsas/pseuds/tsaritsas'>tsaritsas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Sad, Sad Ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:09:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsaritsas/pseuds/tsaritsas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I did a celeb and I took some requests and I need a place to put them. Fics vary in length</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nikolai Lantsov &amp; Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. clandestine meetings and longing stares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So I see you’ve picked your bride?” Zoya asked, waiting in her king’s chambers. She knew that the time would come eventually, that she would have to be prepared. But apparently, she still was not. The realisation hit her that this was the last night they would spend together. The last night they would sit in his bed and talk about whatever was on their minds, confide in each other as friends did, act as if they could keep up the charade of whatever they were. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was their last normal day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat on the bed beside her in his nightclothes, running a hand through his tousled golden hair as he gave her a melancholy smile. “I suppose I have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya stared straight ahead as she tried to think of something to say, something that would clear the anxiety in the air. He had asked her to marry him once, back when he didn’t think there were any other options. She had turned him down of course; Ravka would never accept having a Grisha queen. Now she and Nikolai sat side by side, nervously pondering the future of their country. Nikolai would have an heir now, at the very least, as well as the backing of the Shu military against Fjerda. His proposal to Ehri had been what brought some sense of security to their falling country, a fighting chance against their enemies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But none of that stopped Zoya’s heart from clenching inside her chest as she realized nothing would ever be the same between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled as she stared straight ahead. “What now?” she replied, though she didn’t know if she was asking Nikolai or the world around her. “You’re going to have to charm her out of trying to kill you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mattress suddenly dipped beside where she was sitting, and Zoya whipped her head to see that Nikolai had fallen with his back against the sheets, his gaze trained on the painted constellations of his ceiling. “I think I can manage,” he mused, though his eyes had taken on a look of worry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya sighed, staring out through his window toward the night sky. This was the last time they would see the stars together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope so,” she laughed softly, “because Ravka can’t have a king if his wife keeps trying to get rid of him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He returned her laugh as he gently placed a hand over hers, causing Zoya to freeze for just a moment. This was the last time he would ever be there to comfort her. “That would make ruling a bit difficult, wouldn’t it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Zoya crashed down on the bed beside him, looking up toward the ceiling at the lanterns burning out. “I guess it would.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt her fingers lace with Nikolai’s as they lay and stared at the ceiling, a look of worry and sorrow overtaking them both. He ran his thumb across the back of her hand, the gentle touch allowing her to even out her breathing. Zoya silently cursed herself for letting her head race right now, for being unable to be in the moment, for being unable to enjoy the last time she and Nikolai would be alone together in peace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They turned to face each other for the first time that night, and for the first time, she saw the true look of nostalgia in his hazel eyes. He looked too sad to be planning his wedding; they both did. But no one could see them now, so they both shared their worries with knowing looks, no words necessary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, after a few minutes, Nikolai spoke up. “You know, I always hoped I would marry for love,” he murmured, “and that’s a stupid thing for a ruler to wish.” He sighed. “But even so, I always wanted it to come true.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled sadly across from him, chuckling just a little bit. “You had a pretty cruel awakening, then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did,” he said quietly, “didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya returned her face to a neutral expression, allowing her eyes to calculate the room around her before focusing on him again. His blond hair shone in the lantern light, giving it a glow that made it almost look like sunlight, save for the night sky outside the window. His hazel eyes glittered, despite their sadness, the gold around the centre shining against the dark brown around the edges of his iris. She drank in the sight, knowing it was the last time she would ever see it. “You deserve better,” she told him softly, a lump rising in her throat. “It doesn’t have to be me,” she said, “but you deserve better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She felt his hand cup her cheek, closing her eyes as he ran his thumb along her cheek, trying to breathe easy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he sighed, resting his forehead on hers. “So do you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. mesmerized</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Nazyalensky!” A certain someone’s voice called from behind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned around to see him walking quickly towards her. She closed her eyes, forcing her head to clear despite the reluctance of her thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I join you?” He asked quietly when he caught up to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose,” Zoya told him, “because it’s too late to make you turn back now.” She turned back around, continuing her walk back to her apartment. “Though I don’t understand what you could want from me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes, bringing her focus back to her route, trying her best to ignore his presence beside her. Zoya had not seen him since the night before at the dance when it all happened. The candlelight, the dance floor, their argument all came flooding back. Everything that she didn’t want to remember. Nikolai looked as if he hadn’t slept, as if a look of worry had made itself home in him. Yet, even then, he was still a sight to behold: cheeks flushed, snowflakes falling in his hair, hazel eyes glittering despite the weather, brown leather coat wrapped tight around him. The sight tugged at her chest a lot more than she would have liked. Everything about him seemed to brighten their surroundings, despite the overcast sky and the snow on the ground and the chill in the air as they walked past buildings equally as grey. He looked like a painting of someone’s long lost love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing you wish to say to me, my general?” He asked jokingly from beside her. “How handsome I look or how much you missed me?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” she told him, keeping her voice flat, “nothing at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both fell in the same step as they walked in silence, the unison a constant reminder that there would always be something between them, no matter how hard Zoya wished there wasn’t. She kept her gaze focused in front of her, trying to ignore the tension in her shoulders, the warmth coming from Nikolai beside her, the traitorous thoughts in her minds that told her they were possible. He kept trying to make conversation as they walked, about anything from the weather to new library books to whatever cafe had just opened that served the best pastries. She ignored him, however. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that everything was okay, that she was not angry. Their argument that night came flooding back despite the protests of her common sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t understand why you’re so frustrated I have other friends.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not that you have other friends, it’s that Kirigin is a dick.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You and Kirigin make stupid jokes together every single time you see him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I still don’t like you talking to him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, it’s not as if you would rather talk to me. What with your phone blowing up with your 15 girls on speed dial.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What does that have to do with anything?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re insufferable.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Something snapped Zoya out of her trance as Nikolai’s steps suddenly stopped at the stairs to her room. Maybe she wouldn’t have to talk to him after all. But a hand grasped her wrist before she could enter the street, and she turned around, meeting his eyes despite her goal to avoid that both now and forever. Despite the dark, he still looked ethereal in the faint glow of the moonlight shining through the windows. Saints, she wished something–anything–could make this easier, but apparently, the world was against her.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zoya,” he said with urgency, holding her gaze. “Please.” His eyes were wide now, a look of sorrow taking over that she wished would go away. She felt something crack in her chest when she looked at him, which she tried her best to bury despite the tears rising to her eyes. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ripped her hand from his grasp, trying to bring her emotions back into check. She crossed her arms, glaring at him from below. Her walls were not about to fall now. “Oh, what do you even have to be sorry for?” She was not dealing with this today. Or ever. Maybe one day, when they were both married and had other lives without each other, but not now, with so much still on the table. “For being an idiot? Because you’ve never apologized for that before–”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For assuming,” Nikolai stepped closer to her so that they were barely a few inches apart. Zoya could feel her heart begin to beat fast, her cheeks begin to flush. He cleared his throat before looking at her again. “That you knew.” He said quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She crossed her arms again, bumping into him slightly, the touch causing her emotions to go off balance. She blinked trying to clear her thoughts. Lifting her head to look up at him, she met his eyes again, challenging him, though she didn’t know for what. “Knew what?” she retorted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His look of frustration suddenly changed to one of hurt, and Zoya immediately felt her heart crack in half. She had just wanted to keep what they had, after all. He looked at her, hazel eyes apologetic. “That I wanted you. And I wish you wanted me too.” He studied her then, waiting for a reaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What could she say to that?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She could feel her heart beginning to beat faster. She could feel the tears pushing to flow, though she didn’t know why. She could feel Nikolai’s gaze on her as her eyes calculated her surroundings, a nervous habit that only he had figured out. Saints, not now. Anytime but now. Nikolai lifted a hand to her face, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear. She froze at the gentle touch of his fingers on her cheek, though she didn’t know whether the chill down her spine came from that or the cold. Everything had narrowed then, to the point where all she could see was Nikolai, and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wish I wanted you?” was all she could manage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled again, bringing an arm to wrap around her waist, bringing her closer so her face rested only an inch from his. His eyes were closed, lashes fanned across his cheeks as he held her in his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her as he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. She felt relief flood through her as he kissed her deeper, his fingers beginning to run through her hair, causing her thoughts to dissolve until he was the only thing she knew. She broke away quickly, only to open her apartment door, and then his lips fell soft over hers again. He picked her up this time, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He set her down on the couch, keeping her close as she lost herself running her fingers through his golden curls, the way he still held her like she was the most cherished thing in his world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pulled away for just a moment to breathe, though Zoya could tell that her head was still swimming. Nikolai gazed at her again, reaching a hand to cup her cheek as she rested her forehead against his, and though she wouldn’t tell him now, everything about him still caused her to see stars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saints, he was going to be the death of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. best mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Lantsov,” Nikolai heard, along with the pounding of a fist on his apartment door. “Open up NOW or I swear-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his door and tilted his head down to find an angry Zoya, arms crossed, glaring at him from behind her glasses. He was glad to see her, of course. He just wasn’t glad she came to see him like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his temples, trying to will his headache to go away. “Lovely to see you as well, Nazyalensky.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stomped past him into his apartment, throwing her bag on a chair and turning back toward him in an angry huff. She walked back across the apartment to stand across from him, lifting her head so she could look him in the eye. “Lantsov, what the hell?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew that he had done something, of course. He just didn't know exactly what. Last night was pretty much a blur. He and his friend had gone back to his apartment after exams, the stress overtaking them. There was no party thrown; his apartment was fairly clean save for the magazines strewn on the table and his kitchen counter littered with junk food. But he and Dominik had sat on the couch and shared a few too many bottles of brandy, rambling on about things he could no longer remember. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could not tell if Zoya was mixing his thoughts or clearing them, but he did know she would not leave until she had an explanation for…whatever he had done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked back at her again, smiling even though it hurt him. “I don't know what you mean, Nazyalensky,” he replied, his voice sounding a lot wearier than he would've liked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Saints,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “for fucks sake.” She reached into her pocket and took out her phone, angrily pressing in the password and hitting play on what he realised was a voicemail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A voice mail that he had apparently sent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zoya,” the voice-his voice-said, “I hope it's okay that I called you that. I know I don't use your first name but–you know what I'm gonna call you Zoya because it's your name and it's pretty. Like you. You're pretty. And smart. Even if you're mean.” The voicemail paused for him to giggle for a few seconds. “But,” he continued, still giggling, “I like it when you're mean. It's adorable. And I especially love when you're mean and the person isn't expecting it. Because they get a look on their face of shock, and then you smile.” he stopped laughing then, and he began to sound wistful. “I love it when you smile. And I love you, even though you make fun of me a shit ton. Well, I like you, technically. That's what I was going to tell you. I wouldn't say I love you first because that's too much, and I can't be scaring you off before I have you. But I guess so. I love your face. And you. You're perfect, Zoya. But I would still love you even if you weren't perfect. But I just,” he paused again, “wanted you to know. For future reference. I love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone went silent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya crossed her arms, blue eyes piercing through him yet again. “So,” she accused, “we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialled me to tell me you love me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stared at her again. He hadn’t meant to tell her, not like this. He had planned to actually take her out and be in a relationship, first of all. He had hoped that he would know she loved him too. He would have told her quietly, so only she could hear it because they would be the only two that needed to know. And instead, he had ruined it by doing something stupid out of stress from his exams. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai had so much to say most of the time, but he had no idea what to say to Zoya now. He blinked, trying to keep the headache from messing with his thoughts. “I guess,” he told her, “that’s what happened.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked at him again, the anger in her eyes now mixed with confusion and what could have possibly been hurt. Oh, what had he done? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s true,” he blurted out. “There you have it.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “I’m sorry. You probably hate me now even more than you already did. You can leave now if you want. Just please don’t let people know.” He pleaded at her with big eyes, hoping just this once she wouldn’t be cold to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya walked up to him from across the room, standing so they were only two inches apart. She looked up at him, the anger gone from her eyes as she moved her hand to cup his cheek, calming his racing thoughts. She stood on her tiptoes then, and she kissed him softly. Nikolai couldn’t understand why, for the hell of it, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh thank the Saints</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she didn’t hate him. He brought a hand to hold her by the waist, pulling her closer to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled away a minute later, lifting a hand to push a stray hair back from his forehead. “You’re still gonna have to take me out on a date, you know?” She laughed, her smile lighting up his whole morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed her cheek, smiling stupid, before leaving her and going to make himself a coffee. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. just convincing enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Zoya liked parties, for the most part. Dancing, food, drinks, the amount of drinking that usually caused something funny to happen. She was a fan of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The people, however, she was not a fan of. Especially the one she could see walking toward her at that very moment. Now. She would not talk to any more snobby Ravkan nobles tonight, not unless they wanted to be stabbed. She needed a way out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hazel eyes met hers from across the room. Though it was not the method she preferred, she had found a way. They met in the middle of the dance floor, Nikolai taking her in his arms right on queue. “Why, tsaritsa, are we avoiding more suitors tonight?” He whispered in her ear as they danced. She tried her best to hide the blood that came rushing to her cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She blinked, trying to bring her thoughts back into focus. “Wonder how you guessed,” she replied, deadpan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled away to look at her, his hazel eyes piercing into her thoughts in a way that caused her to want to go still. She kept dancing, trying to ignore the way he was holding her close, his hands at her waist as they danced through the night, how even after the party was over she did not want him to let go. How his eyes kept drifting to her lips. She was only doing this to reroute the attention of some nobles, after all. But Zoya looked across the room and still saw them looking at her. She cast a look towards Genya, seeing if she could somehow ask for help, but she knew Genya would try and initiate exactly what she was avoiding. So she danced with Nikolai into the next song, then another, and another, hoping it would be enough to get the nobles to leave her alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But still, it wasn’t. Because two more were sauntering over to her and Nikolai, looking as if they had drunk to stupidity. She needed out of this now. The dancing hadn’t worked even when he had twirled her and brought her back just to catch her, even though at this very moment she was resting her head on his shoulder. She needed something foolproof. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your highness,” she demanded quietly. “Kiss me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled away to meet her eyes again, a smirk appearing on his lips. “My general, of course, I understand why you would wish for that, but this is hardly the time and place.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nikolai,” she demanded again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tsaritsa, I think we can wait for another hour since you’re walking me to my bed after this party is over anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> She stomped on his foot, nodding her head toward the men in drunken stupors currently coming to ruin her night. His eyes widened, putting the pieces together as he looked back from the party guests, to Zoya, and the party guests again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nikolai.” she stomped on his foot again. “They’re coming. Hurry up and kiss me or I swear–”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was silenced when his lips came over hers in the middle of the dance floor, catching her off guard and causing her to stumble. He caught her with one hand at the waist, pulling her closer, causing her to almost melt at the touch. She wrapped her arms tighter around his shoulders, pulling him down to her. Saints knew she was never going to do this again. But his lips were so soft, and he wasn’t pulling away either. His other hand went to cup her cheek, the gentle touch of his fingers causing her to almost burn up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled away a few seconds later, hands returning to her waist as the song changed once more, keeping up the charade for a few moments longer.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. impasse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So you plan to what exactly?” Zoya questioned. She rolled her eyes at her imbecile of a king. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew Nikolai didn’t have one, really. She just needed to help him realise why. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As I said:” he began, “I marry Ehri, we have an alliance with the Shu. Use their army and money to fend off the Fjerdans and purchase the </span>
  <em>
    <span>jurda</span>
  </em>
  <span> from Novyi Zem to make the antidote.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya pinched the bridge of her nose, unable to comprehend how he hadn’t realized their plan was futile yet. “And what will they do when they know we’re making an antidote for the thing that fuels their military?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped dead then, realising once and for all that there were no more options. She wished he didn’t have to realise this now, that he had realised before as she had. Not only because it might mean they would be prepared for what might come, but because the look of defeat on his face caused something in her chest to tighten. He sat back in his chair as he stared straight ahead, the expression on his face changing from frustration to something blank like he had felt all the frustration he could and now felt nothing at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zoya,” he asked quietly. “What are we going to do?” It had finally hit him: they were caught between a rock and a hard place, and there would be no getting out. Nikolai, who was always so positive, so upbeat, even when everything had gone wrong, sounded so destroyed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat down beside him, placing her hands in her lap as her shoulders tensed. Seeing him hurt somehow caused her to hurt too, although she had known what was coming for them. Maybe it was because she had only known. She had never truly believed it. It should have happened earlier; she had known, hadn’t she? She had known for so long that it all was hopeless. But now, sitting in the room alone with the most optimistic person she knew, the one who could smile when everything was falling, losing hope, it hit her like a truck. All of the negotiations they had made, the meetings they endured, the loans that they had taken, the battles they had fought were all for nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost instinctively, Zoya reached to her left, taking Nikolai’s hand in hers. She didn’t know why she did, and she knew she would regret it later. But she could think of nothing else in that moment that might help. She laced their fingers together as his hand tensed, then relaxed. His calloused hands were warm on hers, offering her comfort she didn’t know she wanted as they sat in silence, the feeling of hopelessness hanging over them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wished she could tell him what their plan was, but the reason she had asked him was that she didn’t have one either.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. racing thoughts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They sat side by side in a swinging bench on the balcony, gazing at the stars as if they were ordinary people. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya sat with her head on Nikolai’s shoulder, her arms wrapped tight around his waist as he talked on about constellations and their meanings. She didn’t know a lot about what he was saying. He knew a lot about most of what they saw, which was even more. But even so, she listened because whether or not she would admit it to herself, she loved him. Even more than that, she loved the happiness she saw in him now, which she had not seen in so long. He kept an arm around her shoulders as he told her story of this one and that, occasionally taking her hand so he could point to where the stars were in the sky, hoping one day they would align so he could always be as happy as he was now. But he still ran a country, and there were still difficult decisions to be made.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, he wore the look of doubt on his face though, because in the middle of the night Zoya looked over to him, concern in her stormy blue eyes. “Something’s wrong,” she observed. Her eyes moved, calculating the night around them seeing if there was something she could see, something she could analyze, something she could figure out how to fix. “Nikolai, what’s happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He met her eyes as he turned to face her, hoping he could keep the rest of his emotions in check as she studied him too. “Nazyalensky,” he told her. He tried his best to keep the anxiety from seeping into his voice. “It’s nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” she replied, raising a hand to cup his face. She ran her thumb along his cheekbone, causing his thoughts to race but somehow calm all at once. She steadied him with her gaze as her blue eyes pierced into him, grounding him in reality. “It’s not.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave her a sad smile. “Not in particular.” He tightened his arm around her shoulder, causing her to sink into him again. It was Zoya, he realized, that made the anxiety bearable, that made the tireless efforts of his job worth doing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All these years I’ve known you,” she said softly. She was almost laughing, though he could tell there was worry in her voice more than anything. “And I still can never figure out what’s going on inside your head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gazed outside of the balcony into the sky again, trying to see if the stars had aligned themselves differently by now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said, leaning his head to rest on hers. “Me neither.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. useless apologies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nikolai found Zoya in the palace gardens after their meeting. She sat staring at the distance, a melancholy look in her sapphire eyes. The light from the setting sun cast a faint glow over her, outlining her features as if she were in a painting, her eyes closed with her lashes fanned out against her cheeks, dark hair lifted slightly by the wind. Her kefta was pulled tight around her to fight against the chill in the air, making her seem almost small as if she was folding in on herself. His unbreakable commander somehow seemed fragile, like something had managed to slip through the cracks in the walls she had built up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai hated more than anything that he had been the one to cause it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took his place beside her on the bench, focusing on the sunset in the distance, trying to keep his heart from pounding faster than it already was. He looked a little higher to see semi-realistic clouds bathed in the light pink and gold of the early evening sky. If Zoya never talked to him again, at least he would get to enjoy this view with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hope you know,” he began softly, “I really am sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A huff came from beside him, and he could hear Zoya shift to cross her arms. “Well, you should be.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saints, what had he done?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai had spent so much time trying to earn her trust, trying to get her to hear it, get her to like him. She had come to work with him when she was only 18, having to run a crumbling country when she should still be in school. Despite how she would not have conversations with him outside of official government settings, he had tried his very best to know her, to learn what she liked, what she hated. He had brought her a different tea every day for a month, just so that he could know what made her happy, and when she told him it was chai he found someone to teach him how to properly make it so that she could have it every day. He found out what desserts she liked at parties, which music she liked to listen to while she worked. He had told her about his childhood, his time in the army, about Dominik and how his death destroyed him. He had told her about the time he spent on the Volkvolny, how trapped he had felt when the Darkling had cursed him. He told her about his troubles and anxieties he had about ruling so that she would know the facade he put him wasn’t actually him, hoping that maybe she would see him as a person and someone she could talk with, to know him in a way that was genuine and true. It had taken him a year to earn enough trust from her to the point where she finally told him about where she grew up, her mother’s antics, how Liliyana took her in, how she had run back after the battle with the Darkling to find a scribbled name on a wall to be the only thing left of her aunt. And he had thrown that trust away with a single ignorant question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have been so quick to anger,” he told her, “as you were only asking a simple question. I was just confused since you were the one who pushed me to marry in the first place.” He paused. “I suppose it’s going to be a change for all of us, this marriage. We will be working more with Ehri now.” He smiled sadly at Zoya, whose black hair was obscuring her face as she continued to avoid him. “We have gotten used to our routine. Just you, me, Genya, and David. Our little cohort.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not why I’m mad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai turned to see that she was facing him, blue eyes puffy and cheeks flushed. He felt a tug in his chest, and all of his emotions suddenly sank because he had done this. He had somehow managed to crush her, and he didn’t know how. Which meant he couldn’t fix it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had told her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You were the one who said to marry. So why are you so mad that I did?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he wanted to do was fix it. The need for her to like him from when they first met suddenly returned, causing his thoughts to race and his pulse to quicken. He needed her to forgive him. She had to. He didn’t even care if she really did; he just wanted to hear it from her so that he could trick himself to think some part of her no longer hated him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, “why are you mad, then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya crossed her arms, folding in on herself again, focusing on the horizon again. “You can’t be that oblivious,” she said, her voice flat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zoya, please.” Maybe she would listen if he actually said her name. He tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away from him before he could reach her. “Oblivious to what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sigh came from beside him, and he turned to see a tear run down her cheek. “It would only complicate things if I told you,” she said, her voice breaking at the last word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A sense of panic suddenly came over him. He reached for her hand again, though he had nothing he could say that he knew would make things better. “There must be something I can do to make this up to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, standing up from the bench and wiping her eyes. She looked at him again, the sorrow in her eyes becoming almost too much for him. She didn’t look angry anymore, just sad. “No,” she told him, “it’s not your fault.” She began to walk back toward the palace. “I’ll see you tomorrow, your Highness.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staring at the sunset, Nikolai pondered his general until dark. Sometimes he forgot he still had so much to learn about her. He felt so ignorant for never realising something so obvious. Maybe behind all of her anger and walls, she still wished for someone to know her too.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. watch what we'll become</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Nazyalensky, really, I have absolutely no idea why I signed up to take any sort of science class.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smirked. Nikolai was back on another “I hate science” tangent, probably thanks to the bio textbook cover that was currently in his face. Zoya was studying, and he was bored, so they often sat together on her couch as Zoya studied. She continued to run her fingers through his blond curls as she read, his head in her lap as he talked about whatever was currently on his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s required, that’s why.” She told him, her tone flat. “You have to take it to graduate. It’s called a course requirement. I thought you would be familiar considering that you–I don’t know–go to school here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That may be, tsaritsa, but that does not make me an expert.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s one of the first things they tell you when you get here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh well,” he mused, “I must’ve missed it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She lowered her book to catch a glimpse of his face: bright hazel eyes glinted with mischief, a smirk playing on his lips, a light sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His grin widened after he saw her lower the book, causing her heart to flood with something she couldn’t quite place but that she gladly welcomed. She moved a hand to cup his face, letting her finger trace across his cheekbone, along the line of his jaw. He closed his eyes, lashes fanning against his cheeks, painting a picture of someone who she still couldn’t believe was here with her. After a minute, he opened his eyes, the gold in the centre blending in the with the black of his pupil as he looked up at her. “My dearest Zoya,” he asked her softly, “my darling, why is it that we can’t spend our entire lives like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughed momentarily before meeting his eyes again. “Spend our lives like what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sitting on your couch as you read and I talk incessantly about subjects that don’t have any real meaning. My head in your lap as you stop reading to tell me I’m disturbing you and then you see how handsome I am and stop your complaining and kiss me gently on the cheek, telling me how you love me and all I have to say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t say I love all you have to say.” She said as she pushed a stray hair back from his forehead. “You say too much for that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do love me, though,” he smirked, “because if you didn’t then that would spectacularly ruin all my plans for us. We would never be able to move to a castle in the countryside and pretend we were a king and queen, dancing in the ballroom late at night and staring at the stars from the balcony.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled at the sight of them together, staring their lives. It was something she rarely thought about herself, but hearing Nikolai talk about all of his wishes left her a little bit giddy at times. “I would make a magnificent queen,” she mused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do look dazzling in a blue gown,” he replied, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Zoya could feel her cheeks begin to warm, despite how small the gesture was. He smiled as her cheeks began to colour and she lifted the book to hide her face again, but he already knew. “Nazyalensky, you don’t have to be ashamed that you love me. So many others do, of course. You know you are not alone in how charming you find me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya scoffed, keeping her face hidden behind her book. “Do you ever get tired of listening to yourself?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Never, my tsaritsa,” he laughed, “as long as you’re here to listen to me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you keep talking, then I won’t be,” Zoya said, slamming her book down beside her, allowing Nikolai to see her flushed expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We will just have to find a balance, I suppose.” He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Though once you spend enough time with me, I’m sure you will be so enamoured that you will let me talk as much as I please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think of yourself very highly, I see.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you were me, you would think so too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I had to hear me talk incessantly, I would probably replace myself with a dummy and leave myself to my ramblings as I would be too wrapped up in my own head to notice that I had been replaced with something stuffed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her again, hazel eyes still sparkling. “But I would notice you were gone in a second, Nazyalensky. A dummy would never have eyes that are as pretty as yours, and I would be so hurt that you would leave me that I would wallow in my sorrows until you found me and were so taken aback that you forgave me for all that I had done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smirked at him. He really was going to be the death of her. “You think my eyes are pretty?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have other qualities,” he told her, “but yes, your eyes are stunning.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek. “Your beauty will forever make up for all of the biting comments you make about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nobody else is keeping your ego in check, so it’s my responsibility,” she said, leaning into the warm touch of his hand. “And you know you love me anyway.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at her again, eyes sparkling in the light. “I always do.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. everything i wanted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoya and Nikolai can't sleep so they go to the library.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Another one of many sleepless nights.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not that Nikolai wasn't tired–even with the effort he put into hiding it, he always felt tired nowadays. Well, tired was an understatement. The term exhausted fit a lot better. The exhaustion of too many bad thoughts and too many bad memories always came to haunt him whenever he wanted to sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, it was not only him who insomnia plagued. He noticed Zoya's pacing around their chambers as well, footsteps soft as she went over paperwork while walking from the bathroom, to the armoire, to the doorway, and then back again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Zoya, dear,” Nikolai got her attention while running a hand through his hair. His eyes met hers as he walked to her, and she set down her paperwork and took his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They walked silently to the library, hand in hand, before settling down on a blue couch with too many grey pillows, Zoya grabbing a blanket to wrap herself in that Nikolai suspected she had no intention of sharing. He lightly skimmed the shelves before randomly picking out a book he remembered Zoya liking–one about a mermaid who wanted a prince too much–and walked back to lay down next to her. Zoya wrapped her arms around his torse before nestling her face in his shoulder. He may not be able to sleep ever again, he realized, but at least Zoya being here made his mind rest a little easier, made the worry go away even if it was just temporary. Reading her the story gave his mind something else to do instead of fret. He ran his fingers through her soft black hair as he went along, describing the girl’s talent of singing and her longing for land, her scheme that led her to lose everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The story was almost over when he heard a small “wait” come from the girl next to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya turned to look up at him, propping herself on an elbow as she met his gaze. She looked almost sleepy, he thought to himself, even though he knew she slept about as well as he did. Her eyes were half-lidded, cheeks flushed just the slightest, a small smile playing on her full lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raised an eyebrow, not sure what she could possibly have to say right now. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked him up and down before telling him. “Your eyes are so pretty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai felt the blood start to rush to his cheeks, unsure whether it was because he was tired or because his brain could no longer form thoughts. “Of course, my dear. Everything about me is pretty. I’m the prettiest. It’s why they made me king.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her signature glare suddenly came forward. “Respond like that again and I’ll take it back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, tsaritsa,” he smiled, “whatever you say.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She reached a hand up to his jaw, running her thumb over his cheekbone back and forth. “They shine in the lanternlight, you know,” she continued, “your eyes. The gold around the centre looks like amber melting into the dark.” She stopped running her finger briefly before continuing. “They’re beautiful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gave her a light laugh, placing his hand over hers. “And you say that I am the one who writes all the embarrassing poetry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can it,” she said, though her voice lacked any malice as her blue eyes took on a soft expression for him and him alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai took her hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss on the back of her fingers. She lay her head back on his shoulder again as he continued reading to her, running his hands through her hair as she held him to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe that night, he could finally sleep easy. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tumblr prompt for "your eyes are so pretty". eye bleach once again provided 🧴</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. take a moment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nikolai and Zoya have one last argument.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Nikolai, for Saints’ sake, I’m not your girlfriend!”</p><p> </p><p>He crossed his arms before leaning back against the wall of the war room. “You can’t go alone.”</p><p> </p><p>Zoya scoffed. “Well, it’s not like you can come with me! It would put you in danger as well!” She sighed before continuing her case. “This country is already in pieces. We can’t lose our king.”</p><p> </p><p>“We can’t lose our general either.”</p><p> </p><p>"I don't <em>care!"</em></p><p> </p><p>Their forces were crumbling at the borders, so she would have to take trips in between them with no stops in Os Alta until they were secure again, which, from the way things had been going, was probably impossible. As for safety, that was impossible as well. But this was Ravka. When was safety ever possible? </p><p> </p><p>Zoya stomped across the room toward him, leaving wind in her wake. She left barely any space between them, locking their eyes together as she seethed. “I thought you understood your duty to this country.” She was done with this bullshit. She had no more logic left for him, no more arguments as to why she should stay or listen. “You’ve told me yourself you can find another general. So find one. If I don’t come back, then find one.”</p><p> </p><p>He smirked, going to cross his arms before realizing there was no room. “I’ll never find one as ruthless as you.” A lock of blond hair fell on his forehead, making his attitude seem a lot more endearing than it needed to be. Just her luck.</p><p> </p><p>“Can it with the sweet talk or I’ll quit myself.” The doubts nagging in the back of her head had returned. Her heart was suddenly beating fast. When had it sped up? She looked up at Nikolai again, his face just inches from her. When had his smile gone away? Replaced with a melancholy look in his normally bright eyes, the colour gone from his cheeks, his lips turned in a frown, brows knit together with…</p><p> </p><p>Oh, worry.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I suppose the secret is that I cannot stand being alone.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She thought he’d said it in the state of weariness, just rambling whatever words came into his brain. That was what he normally did, anyway. He talked a lot about anything, who knew what was true and what wasn’t? Half the time he wore a mask, though most people didn’t see it. Unless…</p><p> </p><p>She met his eyes again, trying to keep the look of shock to a minimum. “Nikolai, I still have to go.” She swallowed her thoughts. ”Ravka will be fine without me. You will be fine without me.” She could feel the water stinging her eyes. He couldn’t see her like this or she could never leave. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears as long as possible. But then she felt someone’s hand cup her cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Felt the first tears spill. </p><p> </p><p>Zoya opened her eyes just barely. She didn’t know what would happen if she were to fully look at him, and there was already a nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to stay, stay here forever in his arms. To stay frozen in time where nothing could touch them. She felt Nikolai’s arm wrap around her waist, holding her to him, before realizing she had now placed her hand on his as it still cupped her jaw, wiping the tears from her cheek. Finally, she opened her eyes, looking up to meet his hazel ones, wide with worry and longing. What would happen if she stayed?</p><p> </p><p>Nikolai rested her forehead on hers, their lips barely touching. She could kiss him right now, and she would no longer have to leave. She could say that she no longer felt it would help if she left, that she was needed more in the capital, that she could send someone in her place to oversee the defences.</p><p> </p><p>If only any of those things were true.  </p><p> </p><p>“Promise me,” he breathed, sounding like he was drowning, holding to her for dear life. </p><p> </p><p>“Promise you what?” she whispered. Saints, she could barely breathe, let alone form a coherent sentence or hear over her own heartbeat. </p><p> </p><p>His hand moved from her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That you’ll come back to me. When this is all over.” </p><p> </p><p>She almost couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Zoya,” he whispered, voice cracking enough to break her heart in two. “Please.”<br/><br/></p><p>There was about a 50% chance she wouldn’t. Her hands moved to cup his jaw, holding him as close to her as possible. She closed her eyes, breathing him in for the last time, remembering his arms around her, the gentle touch of him, the beat of his heart against hers. Just one more minute.</p><p> </p><p>“I will.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>for zuha (ily) eye bleach is here 🧴</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. it's just polyester</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoya needs to go to the Little Palace.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You're not going anywhere.” </p><p>Zoya sighed, “I'm just going back to the Little Palace to grab some stuff.” </p><p>“Not alone in that weather you're not.” For some reason, even though Nikolai was the one who had asked if she wanted to stay the night. The Little Palace was only a short walk away, and she figured she should at least have some pyjamas if she was going to be stuck there the rest of the night. </p><p>“Then come with me.” </p><p>Nikolai glanced out the window, taking in the sight of the heavy snow. He pursed his lips. “No.”</p><p>“So I'll go alone.” </p><p>“No, you won't.”</p><p>“I'm cold, I'm just going to get pyjamas and some blankets. And some sweaters. And a hat–”</p><p>“You're cold inside, Zoya. You're gonna freeze if you go out.”</p><p>She started walking toward the door. Saints, she had to go some time. “I'll only freeze for ten minutes.”</p><p>Nikolai's hand wrapped around her wrist. “That's ten minutes too long.” He paused. “I’ll give you my sweater.”</p><p>She couldn't help but laugh. “I'll be alright. Back in ten minutes.”</p><p>But he didn't seem to care how long she was gone. His arms had closed around her, holding her tight to him as he rested his chin on her head. “Don't go.” </p><p>She returned his embrace, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head in his chest. “Why?” She asked, a small smile playing on her lips.</p><p>“Because,” he whispered, “I don’t want you to.”</p><p>She took a breath in. “I know.” She pulled away just the slightest, so she could meet his eyes. “But I do need to go get clothes.” She smiled, pushing a stray lock of blond hair from his forehead. She flicked her eyes towards the door, just to make her message clear. “Especially since I’ll be keeping some here from now on…”</p><p>A grin spread across his face all of a sudden, and he was back to his usual self. “So you’re taking me up on my offer?”</p><p>Zoya moved her hands to run over his shirt collar. “Not yet,” she told him, “I don’t wanna go too fast. But…” she leaned her head against his shoulder, “maybe soon?”</p><p>She heard him take a breath in, then out, before pressing his lips to her forehead. It wouldn’t be that bad, she thought, waking up to him every morning as sunlight spilled into their chambers, his arms wrapped around her before they went to breakfast, saying goodbye to him before she left for the Little Palace, coming back every night to fall asleep next to him. </p><p>She promised herself she would take him up on the offer soon. </p><p>“So,” she asked quietly, “can I go now?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Too cold.” </p><p>“We just discussed this!”</p><p>Nikolai lifted an arm from around her, still keeping one around his shoulders to bring her with him as he turned around and walked away from the door. Zoya turned to look at him again, noticing mischief had taken its place back in his hazel eyes. </p><p>She looked up at him and widened her eyes, making the best expression of pleading she could. “Can I still wear your sweater?” She leaned her head back on his shoulder, feeling him place a light kiss on her temple. </p><p>“Of course, love.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>eye bleach provided🧴</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. like i dreamed it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoya is not a morning person.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Go away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai might have been intimidated by her request at some other time. However, it was mostly muffled, as Zoya’s face was currently buried in a pillow. She was clutching the blankets, trying to shield herself from the morning cold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You run a country, Zoya. You can’t just not show up.” He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to shake her awake in a way that wouldn’t get him killed. Or dumped. He really hoped he wouldn’t get dumped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” she said, her face obscuring itself in a mess of black hair. “I’m in charge. I can do what I want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” Nikolai mused, “I’m in charge.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her hair. “And I think you should get up.” He kissed her temple. “So that I don’t have to go run this country alone.” Her cheek. “You always say I’m a disaster anyway. Even though I was clearly meant for the job.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya turned a bit toward him, the outline of her nose standing out against the cream coloured sheets. Her eyes were half-lidded, with some silver melting in with the blue of her iris, shining like stars against the midnight sky. Her cheeks were flushed just the slightest, and her eyes smiled even though her lips did not. She shifted a little bit in her bundle of blankets, a halo of ink-black hair swaying around her face to frame it as she rested her cheek on her hand against a pillow. She switched her gaze from place to place, eyes calculating the room as if to check whether or not it was worth getting out of bed to leave it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hell, what was Nikolai even here for? He could think of nothing else but Zoya anymore. None of their plans for the day came to mind because they could never compare to simply just </span>
  <em>
    <span>being</span>
  </em>
  <span> with her. He could only think of the words “I love you” but even that wasn’t enough. Why go do anything else when his whole life was right in front of him. Why think of anything but her? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just look at you. Saints, you’re so cute.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai blinked, trying to get his brain to work enough just so he could form a sentence. “Did something happen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoya pressed her cheek against the pillow again. “Why’d you call me cute? I’m not cute.” She protested with fake anger she clearly thought was convincing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saints, he couldn’t even keep his thoughts in his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Darling,” he smiled, “how could I not? You’re adorable.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you find me so adorable,” she complained, wrapping herself tighter in the blankets, “then let me sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe, on another day, he would have been tempted to ask her again, to annoy her until she got out of bed and she would make herself a coffee and scowl at paperwork all day. But Saints, she looked so peaceful when she was asleep and the sight of her curled in blankets made his heart melt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolai just couldn’t bring himself to do it anymore. He was still in his nightclothes, anyway. What good was there in leaving?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lifting the covers, he climbed back in bed, bringing an arm around Zoya to keep her close as she curled into him, settling her head in his chest. The warmth and comfort of her company seemed to calm his thoughts, and despite the mid-morning sun in the window, his eyes soon felt heavy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweet dreams, my love,” he whispered, placing one last kiss on her forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A quiet “goodnight,” from her lips was the last thing he heard before sleep took over. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>how do i keep getting these request things have yall seen my mechanics</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm so sorry these are all weird i tend to not know what's happening when i write them</p></blockquote></div></div>
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